


Open Spaces

by Sawadoot



Series: tsuna runs his big mouth [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Familial Relationships, Gen, M/M, Orphan AU, sharpening silverware AND skills, they play board games beneath the crippling pressure of expectations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-09-02 12:49:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8668258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sawadoot/pseuds/Sawadoot
Summary: Remaining as Tsunayoshi means he must be curious. It doesn't matter the last name nor the father figure or lack of. Because Xanxus is also intent on remaining himself if Tsuna's abysmal medical records are anything to show for it.





	1. The Birth of Natural Disaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> revised 11/27/17
> 
> (open for more editing as of 4/25/18)

“You….look strange.”

Barely a passing whisper of broken Italian and yet he caught it enough to lock sight with brown eyes, seemingly too large. Xanxus tasted a dose of disgust though he swallowed it down a fraction. Perhaps for the reason he’s never seen this kid anywhere near this proud Vongola Mansion they both stood, shadows scattering the foyer.

So instead he directs a meaningful gaze towards the littlest blank faced brat. Arms loosely hanging beneath a finely tailored blazer placed haphazardly on top of yet another tailored shirt for kicks. Still hands ought to wring a bout of anxiety yet do absolutely nothing for resolute expression. Or underlying to fit lack of.

“You some sap’s illegitimate child or what?” 

His small hand grips to the front of that sizable vest. Cocks his head to the side in the most infuriatingly clueless manner that Xanxus couldn’t even begin to digest.

“Don’t really know,”

Afterthought. “Or care.” Indefinitely

 

And yet-   
  
“The fuck is this? Explain, old man.”

To explain why a child sitting next to his spot in a booster seat was present and staring vacantly at the broad ceiling of the mansion’s dining room was certainly a challenge.

Timoteo would accept it, somewhat.“Tsunayoshi will be living here with us from now on.”

Enraged eyes snap from Vongola Nono to ‘Tsunayoshi’ who hasn’t shifted his gaze from trailing down the endless ceiling. Eyes squinting the further they look.

“Hell no!”

“It isn’t your decision, Xanxus.”

Xanxus can feel his blood boiling. It was if he would be the one stuck catering to this weak misplaced child of a dead cur.

“I’ll kill him-”

“We’ll discuss this after supper.”

For once Xanxus complies. Slamming his palms flatly on the table as he angrily launches himself into the seat next to Tsuna with a jarring scrape.

This slamming is enough to startle Tsuna from whatever thoughts he might have been entertaining and for the greater good more or less, he takes to investigating the assortment of silver cutlery laid out before him.

Big forks, little forks, spoons of many shapes and sizes as well as two knives.Tsuna decides he has use for none of these and collects a fistful of mashed potatoes eagerly holding them up for Xanxus to see. “What’re these?”

Again, with the garbled Japanese.

Timoteo coughs into his napkin although those present are painfully aware he is laughing.

Xanxus takes an almost aggressive bite of turkey, ignoring this kid who sits beside him momentarily confused and still holding slowly cooling mashed potatoes in one hand. After a short silence Tsuna wipes the entire fistful onto the side of the expensive tablecloth. In the space between himself and Xanxus.

Clearly having no idea what half of these things served to him are nor what to do. Tsuna reaches for the glass next to him, filled with red liquid that can’t possibly be anything other than tasty juice.

“Brat!-”

An entire glass of aged red wine spills across the table, overflowing onto Xanxus’ lap. “Fuck!”

“Fuck!” Tsuna cheers eagerly although disappointed that all the juice is now at the floor’s mercy. He lowers his head to lick the remains off the table as any child supposedly would and is roughly shoved away by his new ‘juice’ covered brother.

“Son of a-”

“Xanxus.”

That warning look. It seldom happens and he can only grunt in response. He would fling the entire table through those paneled windows across the room if he had to in order to express his displeasure.

 

And then,

A hand springs in the midst of rising chaos successfully closing around Xanxus’ half eaten turkey leg. The one on his plate. The one that is clearly his and his behavior had clearly expressed not to fuck with him beforehand so there shouldn’t have even been an  _ attempt _ \- yet here they were.

He watches with an almost unbridled rage as said hand retracts, taking his  _ meal _   with it.

Instinctively he lowers the fork still clenched in his hand. Swiftly aiming for the grubby hand that belongs to a weak snot-nosed brat who  _ dares _ to take him for a fool.

Clattering around the table ensues.

“XANXUS!”

“...ow...”

Acting as if it’s only a scrape, Tsuna grabs his prized turkey leg with a free hand and bites into it.

All tension in the room collapses into silence. Tsunayoshi. A fork sticking out of his right hand while blood spills over from his wound and onto their pristine white tablecloth.

Yet he sits there, tears in his eyes, eating a dinner that wasn’t even his.

“Dear god…..”

With a growl of displeasure Xanxus exits the room. In order to change his clothes that reek of liquor more than they usually might. Vongola Nono fussing in the background.

So when they meet again the next morning while Tsuna displays a heavily bandaged hand. He expects at the very least a whimper of fear or some distrustful space between them.

Only blinking of doe-like eyes and a mock salute as Tsuna exclaims he gets to explore in the mansion's spacious back garden today. Somewhat amused Xanxus wonders what will happen when this kid becomes aware of his situation.

Exactly six minutes later Tsuna can be heard screaming bloody murder as the smallest dog residing on Vongola grounds bounds after him across the garden. Somehow being stabbed in the hand was nothing compared to the fearful image of a tiny pup barrelling at him from across the yard, mouth open.

Perhaps it would’ve been better if that kid had been left to the mercy of a fate less cruel.


	2. The Birth of A Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leaving a six-year-old child to his own devices is practically the same as leaving him in the care of Xanxus. The only difference? Broken limbs are sought out rather than forced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised 11/27/17
> 
> (you are reading the OLD pre-rewrite chapter. Editing in effect beginning 4/26/18)

Brows are almost comically raised by the blatant perplexed expression Tsuna wears having been handed a box brightly decorated in blues and golds, shining ribbon to top his gift. The paper feels pleasantly smooth against his hands.

But what is it for?

His head jerks up to scan the room, utmostly for Vongola Nono, the man in who had presented him this lightweight box in question.

Timoteo smiles in amusement. “Do you not know what day it is, Tsunayoshi?”

Tsuna wrinkles his nose, attempting to reach the inner recesses of his memory and pull a specific event from his head matching to this date. October fourteenth. It stirs nothing. After a moment of blank staring, his head shakes slowly from side to side. “No.”

Nono looks a bit surprised. “Today is your birthday!”

Gentle enthusiasm is met with no reaction. “So?”

“Wouldn’t you like to celebrate it with everyone?”

Tsuna gives him the most incredulous look his newly turned six-year-old face could manage. “Why would we celebrate that?”

Timoteo feels a wave nostalgia for a brief moment. Indeed... Xanxus wasn’t much for own his birth either. They are alike in that way he supposes, although Xanxus knew already...he knows.

Sudden tearing paper startles him, pieces of blue and gold floating slowly to the carpeted floor around crossed legs. Shiny ribbon sticking to the side of Tsuna’s head. To be painstakingly wrestled off later.

“What does it say?”  He doesn’t understand the front, he hasn’t learned enough yet to do so. Fingers trailing across the mustache clad gentleman on it’s cover. Looking with interest at the silver pieces and brightly colored spaces.

“Monopoli.” Timoteo provides. 

“How do you play it?” Tsuna is nevertheless enchanted by the game, removing it’s lid and shuffling through each piece. He holds up a tiny silver shoe with a hint of amusement. Though his Italian is rather broken being a beginner to something that wasn’t his native tongue, Timoteo understands well enough.

“We’ll have to play it sometime soon, I’ll explain it then.”

Tsuna nods, still entranced by the tiny player pieces. Hands fiddling with three of them his eyes widening.

Within a few moments, his game is set aside not without being spared a longing glance.

“I don’t wanna celebrate. ‘Cause it’s weird.” Tsuna says with finality before Timoteo can even open his mouth to speak. “I only talk with you and Xanxus anyway.” His brother’s name is pronounced with much difficulty.

Timoteo looks thoughtful. “What if you celebrate with only Xanxus and I then?” He offers a small smile and Tsuna makes a squeaky sound.

“Dunno.” Clearly embarrassed he looks to the soft carpet below him. “I don’t…”

“Next year then perhaps?”

He nods a bit ashamedly. Perhaps not.

Timoteo gives him a shaky, awkward pat to his head before standing up. He leaves the sitting room- Tsuna staring at his back in awe.

Less than a few seconds later he’s lifting up each curious piece once again, impatience causing him to scowl rather than the usual blank stare or good-natured expression that often causes him to look vulnerable.

He tosses the pieces back into the box and slamming on the lid, shoving it across the long coffee table to the end furthest from him.

A way to pass time is in order, pestering Xanxus was an option but having heard he was absent this afternoon for a meeting of his, squad? Tsuna does not know what being in a squad implies but his thoughts reason it must be something like an Italian police force or rather a branch of this mafia he hears Nono talk about in hushed whispers when he thinks little ears may be near.

So there was no choice but to find another person of interest to irritate. Then again they will play the usual games he plays with Xanxus, the ones that bring electricity through his limbs and fire to his eyes.

 

* * *

 

Little feet carry themselves from an expanse if not costly sitting room decorated with charming paintings and ravishing furniture.

Occupied by his own mind Tsuna makes it a goal to scuff his shoes over the shining tile floors as much as he can possibly achieve. Making awful squeaking sounds with them as he shuffles on.

Much of the mansion remains unexplored despite having lived within the premises for seven months already.  And maybe, he thinks cocking his head to the side- gift bow still very much intact, a bit of exploring could never cause any harm. 

After all, they’d never told him he was forbidden a certain area.

Tsuna has only been in Vongola Nono’s office but once on the first day of his arrival. Only for a few minutes. It was clean and bare-- save four photos. One of Xanxus and the other three he assumed were the spoken sons. Did that mean they were a nice family?

He looks at his prong scarred hands. Probably not.

In a burst of red-hot emotion he drags his foot against the friction of tile flooring harshly eliciting a squealing sound louder than before. The tapping of what seems to be tiny feet cause him to stop, out of curiosity.

It’s small he somehow just feels it but maybe he is wrong. So Tsuna squats down almost level with the polished floors, and waits.

For three minutes, he counted, based on one of the assorted ornamental clocks that taunt him with their moving hands. And into his idly outstretched hand crawls an almost inhumanely small lizard. Tsuna blinks and it’s round black eyes blink back.

Tsuna moves his head to the left, so does the lizard. Tsuna raises his hand upwards to get a closer look at this tiny creature and it seems not the least bit frightened at his new angle of perspective. “You’re so small.”

Confirmed with a nod, it nods back. Tsuna taps it on the nose in good humor amazed at it’s smooth, scaly texture. A yelp echoes down the hall. Sticky pink tongue stuck to the top of his forehead but he’s amazed rather about the elasticity of it than the fact that this lizard seemed to be apparently tasting him.

“What are you doing to my partner?”

Aforementioned lizard isn’t in his hands anymore and neither is he crouched over the floor. But instead dangling inches above the ground. Suspended by his left arm, actually beneath the shoulder where someone with a very large hand is holding him up in the air.

“Well, I thought I was probably petting it.” He only bothers to look up a slight bit not seeing past one curly sideburn. He wants to touch it. It looks funny.

“He’s mine.” Comes the reply, dropping Tsuna unceremoniously to the floor with a proclamation of ownership. “Leon belongs to me.”

Newly identified Leon peers from one broad shoulder as if watching with careful eyes for any hostility.

Tsuna takes this very moment to look towards unseen eyes, shadowed by the brim of a large practically fitting hat. Placed on the very top of this stranger’s head. His words come out leisurely. “You don’t seem like a good pet owner, letting Leon wander around like that, sir.”

He certainly wasn’t expecting a sudden strike to the head which he dodges mostly only getting clipped slightly by what would have been a full force smack to the base of his skull.

“Leon can handle himself. Especially around brats with no manners like you.”

Tsuna scrunches up his nose. “ ‘kay.” There might be more interesting things further down the hall after all this man seems rather irate at having to chat with him.

“Where do you think you’re headed?” Words stop him in his tracks, he wasn’t aware the tall man was still present.

“ ‘sploring. Nono says I’m allowed.”

“Not down there you’re not, only those associated with business are allowed there.”

Once again he turns to face this lizard stranger with bright-eyed curiosity. “You’re a… ‘soc.. iate?”

Stranger eyes him in slight discernment. “An associate?”

“Yeah!”

There’s somewhat of a glint in his eyes. “I’m Reborn. The world’s greatest freelance hitman. Of course I would have business here.” More peculiar than an unannounced child is the bow clearly plastered to the side of his head.

“That’s a silly title.”

Appropriate punishment from Reborn comes in the form of him snatching the bow off, taking some of Tsuna’s hair with him. Tsuna shrieks in surprise but there isn’t much else to it.

“And what’s your name? It can’t be any better, considering you had this stupidly stuck to your skull, hm?” Reborn seems more amused than pissed at such a remark, well behaved children don’t often carry such attitudes.

“Sawad-a Tsu…. Tsuna…” The pronunciation is a struggle.

“Tuna?” Reborn enjoys the look of disdain being called a fish brings.

“Tsun-a...yo-shi..” Though unsure if he’s even pronounced it correctly Tsuna is still rather proud at having at least sounded out his entire name with no help at all.

“A big name for a brat.”

Surprisingly there is no answer, childish eyes are trained on something behind Reborn rather than Reborn himself.  Through one of the floor length windows Xanxus can be seen exiting yet another expensive vehicle.

At last! A familiar face to pester. Unbeknownst to himself, his own eyes glimmer just a bit in anticipation for Xanxus to set foot inside this grandiose empty mansion. Perhaps he will play the new game he has just received.

“Bye! Whoever you are!” And of course having not even taken time to remember Reborn’s name or even the ever round-eyed Leon; Tsuna dashes off in the direction he came.

 

“Want to play a game with me?”

Silver thimble on his thumb, surrounded by the wafting smoke of Nono’s parlor. Tsuna anxiously looks to Xanxus whose eyes trail over to neatly arranged pieces across that very board. A mustache clad gentleman smiling at them both from the cover.

With a grimace, Xanxus moves towards Tsuna’s neat arrangement.

“Fine, if it gets you to shut the fuck up we’ll play. But with substitute rules. Got it?”

Tsuna only nods eagerly. “Sure!”

Perhaps a wiser game ought to have been implemented. There would always be the faintest crooked set of his arm even years after. Though Tsuna would gesture in ways that couldn’t be traced, they both knew. That first game marked one of many.

Vongola Nono was going to need a few on duty doctors from this day on. So they reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It became a bit longer than my usual updates but I hope this makes up at least a small amount for the lack of updates on my stories. I'm attempting to make time for all of them.


	3. The Birth of A Destiny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised 11/27/17
> 
> (you are reading the OLD pre-rewrite chapter. Editing in effect beginning 4/26/18)

“Why do I have to go?”

Droopy eyes could have pinned the elderly man’s conscience. Gut twisting with the same anxiety harsh as the wringing of his shirt hem. An expensive garment that it was.

Nono tightly grips onto his hands, shaking as they are. Fear; worries piling up for the fact that he is going with a man whose last name they’d already given him. Was he never Vongola to begin with? Was perhaps this the reason they gave him the frightful name Sawada and were sending him off to be the son of a strange woman and man.

Their child? Not Nono’s?

“Complications, my son. You will return before you know it.”

Tsuna’s half-lidded eyes stare at Timoteo’s wrinkled hands. “Where’s Xanxus?”

Something awful has happened to his brother. He knows it. That’s why he is being sent away. He can feel it within every inch of his being.

“Will he be arriving in my home country as well?”

Timoteo is clearly struggling with his words, evaluating the seven-year-old boy before him. Knowing he is being tested rather than merely questioned. “No. Xanxus has decided to... isolate himself for a while.”

Tsuna is displeased if not hurt. “Let me see him? I want to say goodbye at least.”

As if on cue a car shaded navy pulls into the entrance. And the younger is being practically shoved towards it. Luggage in hand.

“There isn’t time, Tsunayoshi. Do not forget your precious things. Don’t forget us.”

He doesn’t like this man who is smiling at him. Not for danger but he is nothing like Nono. He is nothing like Xanxus or even Natsu his adopted cat. He regrets that he can’t take the feline along on such a trip.

“Take care of Natsu, please. Keep him company.”

 

It’s all so fast. The airport. Their flight. A place entirely new to his memory. Nono said it’s his birthplace, Japan. But Tsuna doesn’t like it.

Everyone speaks his native tongue at least he thinks. Tuning out the man chattering excitedly beside him about his new mother. He doesn’t want one. He doesn’t want anyone but Xanxus and Nono.

“I want to go home.”

“Well son, Japan is your home.”

Tsuna wrinkles his nose in disgust. “It’s not. It’s fuckin’ not.”

“Don’t swear.” Iemitsu seems horrified to which he only shrugs. It isn’t that bad. Men who don’t swear are too tolerant so he’s been told, and who would know better than them. “It’s where you were born.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make it my fucking home. ‘Cause I’m not your stupid son.”

“Tsuna!”

He frowns. Crossing his arms and looking out the window. “It won’t ever be.” Tsuna whispers tracing shapes onto the foggy windows of the taxi with his index finger.

Iemitsu chides him for that too.

Japanese people have odd ways of greeting others Tsuna decides. With a disgruntled noise as Nana throws her arms around him. Squeezing tightly enough to make anyone lose their breath.

Their home is so small. He can only stare in fascination at the brightly colored decor, finally settling on his new mother.

She is very pretty.

“Hi.” A simple greeting and yet she’s gushing all over. He squints at the peculiarity of such actions. Turns to Iemitsu for some sort of an explanation only to see stars in his eyes as he and Nana embrace each other a bit over excitedly.

“I’m gonna look around I guess.” His luggage is dropped in the entryway, Tsuna proceeds to explore every inch of their tiny house even down to the softness of the sitting room sofas. They were nice enough.

Crawling underneath the table to explore a wood floor he’s never seen before, it’s so shiny. It’s so smooth.

He flattens his palms against it to get a better feel.

“Tsu-kun? What are you doing?”

What was a Tsu-kun?

Assuming she’s talking to him he lays down cheek to the floor with eyes raised to meet her curious brown ones.

“Exploring.”

His words come off as a deadpan as he rolls from beneath the table into the sitting room to once again inspect a shag carpet he’s never seen before.

They aren’t like furs at all.

“Why don’t you wash up instead? It’s supper time!”

Reluctantly Tsuna wanders into a tiny bathroom unlike his own back home. It smells like lavender. Unpleasant.

The mealtime, however, is rather difficult. Tsuna being so assertive of the food on his plate, knife sideways and ready to cut whoever he suspects to steal the best parts off his plate. Chopsticks are too difficult and he often fumbles with them.

“Is it not good?” Nana seems rather worried, Iemitsu suspicious.

“ ‘s fine.” He raises the knife higher suspecting at the comment they may go for the pork the sits on his plate still.

Tsuna was always one to try and save the best for last.

Nana only sits back, confused further.

Their lack of charges makes him anxious. How peculiar. How strange and unpleasant. Do they not like the meal enough? Are these people irregular?

“Who made this?” He points at the meal before him in confusion upon seeing no chef nearby as they often were. Another peculiarity.

Iemitsu is beaming. “Dear Nana of course! Isn’t her cooking fantastic?!” Nana flushes pink at the praise.

“ ‘s good.”

They’re smiling. So strange to smile so boldly. Unlike Nono’s soft smile or the jagged spiteful one Xanxus gives him after snatching the last piece of chicken from his plate. Or when he hides his right socks as a prank.

“I’m going to go lie down.”

 

 

A tiny room his own. Nothing like the soft greens and pale blues of his bedroom at the mansion. He buries his face deeper into the pillow that smells nothing like freshly washed sheets of home. And feels sick to his stomach.

Because something is dreadfully wrong.

Because perhaps he was the wrongdoing.

“Send me back.” An empty room won’t reply.

Unheard by fate and its winding paths. Weaving a destiny so familiar that it was already known beforehand.

Couldn’t anyone see his desperation?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried my dudes


	4. The Birth of Resolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised 11/27/17
> 
> TW: as added in the archive warnings; violence mentions
> 
> (you are reading the OLD pre-rewrite chapter. Editing in effect beginning 4/26/18)

Another brightly wrapped gift but this one is decorated with reds and silvers. Tsuna doesn’t understand as Nana places the box into his hands as Nono did every year on his birthday.

He can’t help but glance at their calendar hanging high on the kitchen wall. A picture of a hummingbird stares quietly back. It’s only April. There are no birthdays to be had?

So why?

“Congratulations on entering Grade one, Tsu-kun!” She claps her hands excitedly while grinning ear to ear. Waiting for him to accept her small congratulatory present. Clearly some sort of game as she knows how longingly he stares at his own and how he’ll play amongst himself when no one is looking.

Tsuna accepts it with almost shaking hands.

Carefully removing the paper as taught his eighth birthday and the Christmas he had never celebrated before.

Peeling away the red, chutes and ladders greets him with their swirly slides and tall ladders that seem to extend far too high. He can tell she’s waiting for some sort of approval of her carefully picked gift, watching him touch the smoothness of the brand new lid.

“Thank you.” He says a little awed.

“Mama is so excited for you to make plenty of friends!” Nana smiles, accepting the hug Tsuna has learned to offer. And though she knows he’s a bit odd and not at all like a regularly behaved child. She still loves him so. He’s her son.

“Friends?” He’s never had one of those aside from his cat. Children his age didn’t often come into the mansion it mostly grown men on business with no time to spare.

“Yes! Lots and lots!”

Lots of friends…. somehow Tsuna is uneasy. It sounds like a lie.

“I see.” He returns to studying the game intently. Examining the tiny playing pieces.

He likes games. They remind him of home, of different times.

Everyone here is so gentle and he’d never understand why. Perhaps they were raised differently than himself?

A bright flash of light startles him terribly, accidentally dropping a brand new game piece on the carpeted floor his knees have sunk into.

It’s only a camera.

“For memorabilia.” She explains to ease his quiet confusion.

The fallen piece is slowly retrieved from amongst the carpet and he glances warily at the camera in her hands. Nono never took pictures. No one really did. Not that he was close with many there.

“Mama has another surprise for you, Tsu-kun!” Nana beckons for him to follow her into the kitchen and wordlessly he obeys. Wondering what could be more surprising than a marvelous game to play by himself.

He’s quickly proved oh so wrong.

“Oh...” Tsuna’s eyes are shining. Meat of all sorts are laid out on the counters. Chicken, beef, ham, turkey…She knows how he loves meats?

Confirmed when he glances her way and her smile doubles in size.

“Wow.” Is all he can say and wonders if Xanxus were enjoying the same sorts he is.

Nana loves her child though he is not hers by blood he is hers by heart. And she knows watching him hastily attempt to divide a steak into tiny pieces as slowly as he can force himself to go, that he is special.

If it were the oddness in behavior she already knows.

How longingly he stares at the empty plot where they haven’t grown a garden in years and his awkwardness about her soft touches. Tsuna isn’t used to loud noises, only when playing games.

Games her husband refuses to play, she hears him whispering “that’s too dangerous” and wonders what kind game would involve a kitchen knife and bandages.

Regardless this is her child. It hurts to know he belongs, by heart, somewhere else but as long as he resides in her care that is enough.

“Tsu-kun,” Finally he looks up almost expectantly.  “What do you… think of it here?”

He blinks slowly, quietly.

“ ‘s nice?” That wasn’t a lie. It was nice, not nicer than Nono’s but it was very warm here. He likes Nana most of everyone he’s met here though being only Iemitsu and the mailman so far.

“You’re nice too.” He adds in afterthought.

Shock settles in when Nana begins to bawl. Unable to understand what he did to elicit such a response the fork previously in hand is slid over to her.

Through swimming eyes she looks at it in confusion.

He slides his hand across the table within her reach. “You gotta raise it really high, ‘cause I stole your food ‘n then you just,” He makes a stabbing motion with his free hand. “Hit it super hard.”

Nana is horrified at the mere suggestion. “No!”

Taken aback Tsuna jerks backwards so quickly that he tumbles from his chair. Lying flat on his back now cringing at the face she’s making. Disgust not towards him. He knows it’s for Xanxus.

He doesn’t like that.

“Nevermind.” He looks away from her face unable to stand what it’s saying. “Sorry.”

Tsuna really isn’t sorry at all. He’ll never forgive her for thinking such terrible things about his brother even if she doesn’t even know who is at fault. It was himself who was in the wrong after all and though only a child Tsuna understands rejection whether direct or indirect.

“Tsu-”

 

He’s already up the stairs only to enter the haven of his room. What he considers a personal sanctuary for all the newness of everything. It is something belonging to him.

It contains his precious items.

Each and every piece the world always held within warm palms, inwards held. For fear of someone who will rip it away.

Tsuna likes Nana. But he won’t allow her to alter his world.

That’s his resolve lying stomach down on the floor of his room. Holding a dirt marked dice.

If Nono didn’t want him doesn’t that mean no one else will? That was why he was forced to leave is what Tsuna reasons in his childlike mind is the only answer.

“No one wants a troublemaker.”

The picture before him drawn in dark blue marker tells him what he must be.

For that he reasons to be what everyone wants him to be.

Until the day he no longer has to pretend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tsuna is the only one of the two who considers Xanxus his brother so that's why he thinks of him so highly.
> 
> Extra note: I appreciate all the views and kudos I've received thank you!


	5. The Birth of A Grudge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though there are no comrades to be found there is but one antagonist in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised 11/27/17
> 
> (you are reading the OLD pre-rewrite chapter. Editing in effect beginning 4/26/18)

In retrospect they should’ve waited and continued the private lessons that had been doled out so easily for them from Nono. But Nana being convinced her little boy was in need of companions his age- rightfully so. She’d insisted.

However this caused several difficulties from the get-go.

It was beyond once shiny now scuffed shoes and using the sleeve of his brand new uniform to wipe his nose. It was violent. Quite unexpected from one so small as well as seemingly calm.

It was Gokudera Hayato.

At first trouble only came in little snickers at his introduction explaining he’s Japanese but still couldn’t speak it with rapid fluency, stumbling over syllables. Tsuna curses them out in his home tongue afterwards only to catch confused glances. 

This very well caught the attention of Hayato who moderately came for the fact of academic stumbling blocks he found easily passable while the rest of the class dragged on behind. He hadn’t expected to meet a kid who spoke his own first language. Or who would grin so broadly it bore teeth. 

Tsuna sends him a distasteful glance on the way to his seat, they both glare.

At lunch Tsuna is considered new and exotic though his face is “unfortunately plain” as one girl comments all too loudly amongst her group of friends.

“I’m no-good.” He states blandly proceeding to slap away a classmates hand from touching his shoulder. Very few stuck around afterwards.

“Hey. You.”

“What?”  Tsuna turns halfway around in his seat to evaluate the sharp italian behind him with his own testy response.

_ “What’s your problem? Did daddy throw you out or something?” _ He dove headfirst into a landmine without hesitation as one does. 

_ “No. Although I’m not a Mama’s boy.” _

All he feels is the overwhelming heat of blood pounding in his ears. Vaguely hears the sound of school supplies that topple off his desk as he lunges to the aisle across intent on wrapping his aching hands around Tsuna’s throat and thoroughly wringing it clean of it’s rude absurdities.

Tsuna saw him coming well in advance. Raising his fist instinctively and slamming it into Hayato’s lower temple with every ounce of strength he has. Textbooks clatter to the floor creating an ugly slam. Cracking of bone against bone.

Then they let themselves fall to the floor in a blinding hot exchange of blows, gnashing their teeth like wild dogs.

That afternoon finds themselves outside the principal's office.

Bloodied lips and bruised cheeks. Exchanging their most heartfelt scowls.

_ “Papa’s baby boy.” _

_ “Mother’s little angel.” _

Nana pleads if he’s at least made any friends once she’s finished crying. Tsuna replies with a flat “no”.

Their evening is terribly silent. Never has he been so disappointed in himself for the fact that maybe Nono did leave him to this family so that he might avoid dealing with Tsuna as a whole.

Because there was no other explanation in his childlike mind aside from the unwanted.

* * *

 

 

 

 

_ Remember to avoid him. _

He knows that his first week back would be strenuous more than an adventure. One he doesn’t wildly anticipate. Despite his sharp look those knees are quaking. Coppery tongue dry as he pushes open the sliding door to his classroom.

Forced smile lopsided in hopes to cure any unsettled feelings.

Only to find a stranger in that boy’s seat. They’ve changed his classroom and Tsuna is secretly grateful for them putting off what he knows isn’t over. But he must behave for Nana’s sake though it’s painstaking for a constant state of pining.

Mid-class he doodled his cat Natsu. Though someone behind him wrote a note pointing out how it looked like some malformed goo. They recieved his best scowl.

There was no one to sit with during lunch so lack of options led him to the schoolyard, settled in the grass with his meal he clumsily made use of those chopsticks Nana insisted on including.

Least expected is a neighboring cat that decided to settle on his legs. It was rewarded bits of salmon in exchange for company.

For Tsuna it’s a moment of contentment he so dearly craved. Never a peaceful nor comfortable moment since moving from Italy so to feel this sort of a peace he longs for every day causes him to relax against a tree trunk he chose to lean against.

Grass parts between his fingers with the new shift of hand position though his grade is unmistakably young he finds himself surprised they’d let him out into the schoolyard so easily. Not ungrateful by any means.

There can’t possibly be much time left there’s a sense of guilt when he finds himself unable to understand. Tsuna having never felt guilty for his actions especially those regarding his rightful family if Xanxus were to tell him not to hold back then he wouldn’t.

He’s never pulled back his fist despite the fact Tsuna doesn’t particularly enjoy the smell of sweat nor purple bruises that decorate their skin.

It’s the attitude. From it he can reasonably assume that this Gokudera kid has never apologized either. Nor will he on the matter. Today is very well one of the dullest he’s ever had. The dice he carries around could prove for a very entertaining game of his own creation but with a ginger mess on his lap purring undeniably so he melts.

 

“Hey,” A face that shouldn’t have be here. “I’ve gotta talk to you.”

Tsuna mutters a grudging farewell to his quiet afternoon where the birds had quited their chatter for such a loud demand, cat fleeing, spooked by an abrupt extra presence.

“What for?” There is clearly nothing to be said. After all those who spoke with their fists had exchanged conversation enough. Though they’ve hardly begun grade school Hayato looms above him, several plasters stuck to his face.

“Just come with me.”

“No thanks.”

Tsuna can’t be bothered to move from his comfortable position at least out of sheer annoyance for having been disturbed during this- his most important hour of refuge.

“I don’t like you at all.” Hayato bites at him.

“I know that already.” It couldn’t have been more blatantly obvious and he’s trying but it could be next to impossible for them to be what Nana considers friends.

Wordlessly the other slumps against the tree beside him letting his body slide to the ground. They stare at each other in unsated curiosity.

“You really are such a dick.”

That comment only receives a shove which turned out lighter in comparison to a long week of hating each other that was to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow it's been 2000 since I've updated but I hope you can forgive me as I trust you enjoy this chapter


	6. The Birth of A Stumbling Block

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tsuna still doesn't know the coup d'état happened yet no one tell this child anything
> 
> Revised 11/28/17
> 
> (you are reading the OLD pre-rewrite chapter. Editing in effect beginning 4/26/18)

Things are not going well at the house per se- he knows this because of the slightly peeved tone in Nana’s voice whenever he returns home from a scuffle or more aptly a disagreement.

A stubborn set of ways he refuses to stop until someone has their face shoved into the dirt, preferably all of them.

Having neared a suspension they thought it best to discuss things with Nono. The mere suggestion sobered him enough to generally quit caring if someone were to shove him while walking past or insult his inability to understand Japanese slang.

Instead reduced to muttered curses in Italian. Tsuna chose to spend less and less time in the vicinity of others when at all possible. Especially groups. He’s aware of his own rough exterior but certainly not strong compared to some and if word were to get out that he’s nothing but a troublemaker- sadly enough the isolation that would bring falls not only on himself.

But Nana as well to some degree.

So here he sits, chewing the inside of his cheek, feigning listening ears. Pretending like his grades have the ability surpass more than an abysmal shame.

Though he’d quickly moved up two grades having arrived the very last bit of his first semester in Namimori landing shakily into grade three with a terrific stumble no sort of friend has been accumulated. Not a single person. Closest semblance being Hayato who, for record’s sake, was always placed in the next class over.

Occasionally however, in fact very occasionally considering his frequent trips to and from Namimori  due to conflict of his ever indecisive father, they would share quiet moments by the same treeline. Hardly affectionate. Maybe a few spared words of any book they’d particularly enjoyed or some small mutter over impending weather.

To Nana this is no less than a crime itself. She’s become a constant nag. As a respectful nine-year-old boy having no friends is so shameful.

Caring is something that lessens not by conscience. By familiarity of phrase. Friendship is always some sort of an ill fitting glove, never the right size though he can wear it for a bit.

Running his fingers over the dice in his pocket once more before withdrawing a cold hand and a heavy sigh. Tsuna has never lacked anything he needs. It’s regrettable he’s never come to feel comfortable despite all Nana’s love.

“Where’s Xanxus anyhow?” His tenth birthday is close… Would it be stupid to waste a wish on him? Probably.

Wishes are meant for wasting. There would always be more is what he was once told. It’s easy becoming accustomed to lies and slander especially for a wish that even God couldn’t grant.

Tsuna might’ve missed that gentle knock if it weren’t accompanied by a louder, more impatients slam. And because he knows the knocking will only get louder from here on out he complies; twisting the lock open.

The largest, roundest eyes. That was all his mind could possibly register for one whole moment between the time he’d opened the door and his encounter. There’s a tail peeking out behind them. It clicks. It’s a lizard with the largest eyes possible, eyes that would be big even on himself.

Said lizard rests on a hand. That hand connected to an obviously hand tailored suit that most likely is worth this entire house.

“What the fuck?”

“Tsuna!” Losing control of words always bends Nana out of shape.

“How impolite.” Says Mr. Wealthy Suit. Tsuna giving himself the opportunity to cran his neck in order to see that he’s actually stupid hat man. Though he doesn’t care for whoever this is he  _ does _ want to hold the lizard.

“Who’s that?” One finger jerks towards the lizard more appropriately chameleon in dumb hat man’s hand. It stares at him. Tsuna stares back.

“Tsu-kun, you only care for his lizard?” Nana is more or less surprised. But considering the fact it isn’t an unusual gesture this would be left as it is.

Tsuna nods, still fixed on those ever large eyes.

“This is Leon,” Leon is raised to sit on his shoulder. “He’s mine.”

That line was… somewhat nostalgic. But names are fleeting as was his time in Italy. Being Nono’s son without having to cover those facts up. But he still doesn’t know of names or faces aside from his older brother and their unsated competition.

“Can I hold him?”

They exchange glances. He gets a sneer from Reborn.

“No.”

With an unapologetic smile Tsuna slams the door shut in his face.

 

* * *

 

“...Why is he sitting on our couch? More importantly, where did Leon go?”

Nana laughs at these observations. Noticing his narrowed eyes at an extra plate she set on the table.

“Does this mean Iemitsu is here?”

She shakes her head sadly. “No, he’s still on his business trip. Your father is a very busy man you know.”

Their routine argument about how Iemitsu will never be a father to him takes its course but otherwise Tsuna willingly settles to setting out napkins and cups for what will undoubtedly be another quiet breakfast.

That is if it weren’t for silly hat man who walks in to refill his coffee for what Tsuna guesses could be a third time considering the kitchen smells heavily of it.

“Then he is?” Tsuna shamelessly jabs a finger in their unwelcome guest’s direction.

“You locked yourself away in your room last night so I couldn’t tell you! This is Mr. Reborn. Your father sent him to help tutor you and keep your habit of starting fights under control.”

“...gross.”

On second thought. Tsuna picks up a place setting and begins putting everything back where it belongs in their neatly organized kitchen.

“What are you doing?” Reborn seems amused. Especially for the minor distraction Leon’s sudden appearance causes. Tsuna shrugs his shoulders. “I have school.”

Nana pauses her balancing act with an overflowing plate in her left hand, spoon in the right, sticking straight up and crumbs dropping all over the floor. “Thirty minutes early?”

“Yeah.” He gives Leon another longing glance before the front door closes behind himself leaving Reborn to his fourth cup and an unholy amount of leftovers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> he just wants to pet leon and frankly me too the fuck


	7. The Birth of A Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: vauge mentions of violence, not in detail
> 
> Revised 11/28/17
> 
> (you are reading the OLD pre-rewrite chapter. Editing in effect beginning 4/26/18)

Their first meal together is nothing short of a disaster.

Tsuna being himself had either refused to eat in the same room or neglected eating altogether in favor of avoiding contact with his new tutor, Reborn, as much as humanly possible. His eyes always wandering to Leon but not much interaction besides shrugs and nods.

And of course an occasional clipped reply when Nana urges him to speak respectfully.

Tonight she had finally done it. Convincing her son it would be nothing more than a quiet meal of all his favorite foods, more importantly her crocodile tears at his first inevitable ‘no’. They all settled on a quick meal and nothing else.

Or that had been the initial plan.

See, even after a few years in Namimori his instinct to snatch as he’d often done to Xanxus’ meals that carried many disastrous consequences he managed to avoid, hadn’t quite settled itself into a dormant state.

There had been a plate of roasted lamb within reaching distance if he could have asked for it. But Reborn’s plate was really so much closer.

Thus ensues his rattling kitchen chair and Tsuna’s arm in a half twisted position across the wood tabletop. However what horrifies Nana most isn’t the fact her child just attempted to steal from their guest’s plate, another high crime. It’s Reborn’s lack of hesitation towards laying a hand on him and how easily Tsuna went for the throat.

The grip Reborn has to place on his wrist just to keep a still struggling hand from advancing with fingers digging themselves into him so he’d still. And then Tsuna bites his hand. Not anything like an annoyed child but a savagely. As someone who  _ wants _ to hurt Reborn badly.

Reborn sits there as if this sort of this thing happens every day. Only light surprise or maybe satisfaction? When Tsuna manages to wriggle his pinned arm free.

His hand rushes towards Reborn shoving him hard enough to nearly send him toppling backwards if not for an infuriatingly keen sense of balance. The force alone was enough for him to release Tsuna in favor of steadying himself.

Vicious little Sawada promptly sits back in his seat, taking a huge bite of the lamb leg he’d still managed to snatch from Reborn’s plate. Showing no signs their earlier struggle even perturbed him. The kitchen reduces to silence. Tsuna’s chewing and Nana’s wavering breaths are the only sounds.

Nana abruptly excuses herself in a spooked rush.

There’s only a small pause in his chewing when she leaves before it resumes.

 

* * *

 

“Go back to Italy, stupid.”

Their second meal. It’s hardly a meal considering Nana is out and they’d only scraped together leftovers. Meaning Tsuna had been doing so when Reborn suddenly turned up at the end of the counter.

“No.” Their conversation is a casual threat regardless of context.

“Why not? You’re probably some big, important hitman. If Nono sent you anyway.” He takes a long swig of juice straight from the bottle. Something Nana would never condone if she knew.

His fork scrapes across his plate after Reborn’s reply, “How would you know if he was the one who sent me here?”

“Iemitsu wouldn’t send me a tutor. He wouldn’t even think of that though you’re probably not even a tutor. Tutors don’t hover around accessing people like you do.”

Reborn’s smile makes his satisfaction apparent. This is only intended to be a feeler conversation to find out where Tsuna is at developmentally and how much he really knows. But it’s broader than he thought. Which makes things easier on his end.

“Oh? Then I suppose you’d like to take a hard guess at why I’m here?” Leon peers around his collar- another staring contest commences.

“Why do I have to?” Tsuna’s eyes never leave Leon per usual.

“Play my little guessing game. Otherwise you’ll never figure out how to be rid of me.” A groan.

Tsuna drags his fork across his plate once more. Hoping it could possibly annoy idiot hat man enough to leave. No such luck. “Nono sent you to keep me out of trouble. He’s busy preparing Xanus as his successor or something like that. Frankly, I’m underfoot.”

“Intuitive. However you ignore the fact that Xanxus is no longer within the Vongola’s care.”

“...what is that even supposed to mean? I’m a nine-year-old not a fucking mind reader!”

Reborn flicks his fedora slightly upwards with his thumb, looking almost smug. Anyone would find it petty to toy with a kid’s emotions.

“It means you’ve been selected as Vongola Decimo in his stead. You’re the new Tenth candidate.”

Tsuna laughs. He couldn’t hold it back. “I’m not even his legitimate son!” Him,  _ a child _ , taking over the position of his older brother who is by far stronger and smarter than himself is impossible. Reborn sees this as an early sign of pessimism which will no doubt be beat out of him in the coming years. Guaranteed.

Reborn shoves him from his chair. Satisfied by his indignant scream. Blocking a hurtling plate.

“You should be more careful with Mama’s things.”

“Strong words from someone who doesn’t value human lives.” Tsuna tosses his silverware into the sink angrily. Adults only know how to tell ‘little fibs’ anyhow. Resisting getting swept along with them is the most important thing to remember.

He  _ knows _ that’s a loaded gun. Which is absolutely terrifying.

He also knows Reborn could and  _ will _ kill him inside his own home.

He knows  _ there isn’t a choice _ .

And Tsuna wishes Xanxus would hurry his ass up and come out from wherever he’s hiding.

“How about we make a deal then?”  _ Do I even have a choice?  _ “If Xanxus returns  _ and _ is able to successfully reclaim your title within the time between now and your inheritance, the catch being you will  put up an honest resistance against him, then he will become Tenth without my interference against it.”

“...and if he doesn’t I still have to take the position? That seems underhanded.” The barrel is pressed against his temples at this point in their conversation. A cold sweat on his neck, throat nauseated from dread.

“I could kill you instead.” Reborn is serious, barrel pressed harder into his skull. It doesn’t matter whether he’s a child or not.

“Fine. I agree, not that I have much of a choice. He’ll be here soon enough. Xanxus never backs down on what's his.” Tsuna extends his hand signaling for Reborn’s as well. With their hands extended his gun lowered to the ground.  “Since I plan on keeping my word we’ll break each others ring finger over it. It’s a promise and if you don’t plan on keeping it then you might as well kill me here.”

His brow quirks at the odd ways of Sawada Tsunayoshi.

On the fridge is a heavily highlighted number for the ER.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reborn is the bane of my existence, i hope he chokes on his espresso


	8. The Birth of Her Curiosity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no warnings, it's chill for once
> 
> Revised 11/28/17
> 
> (you are reading the OLD pre-rewrite chapter. Editing in effect beginning 4/26/18)

 

 

That day was his first encounter with vast unpleasantries. More than the creeping loneliness or obvious displacement by his classmates who consider him someone who can only either brawl with fists or cower in shame.

And oh, how he cowers.

It couldn't be more than hardly two days after his tenth birthday- only a dreary October afternoon, later into the day when all students would file quietly out the doors of their cramped elementary school. Dragging his feet more so than anything for the fact that he knows Reborn will be at Nana's house.

It has been a short handful of months and he doubts he'll ever be used to someone attempting to bash his skull in so early every morning. Though it'd happened only once with Xanxus for sleeping on the sofa after he’d snuck into his room.

He knows all too well that with double digits he’s considered the perfect age for Reborn's personal training as he calls it. He never wonders why the accompaniment of a shiver wound its way up his spine at the very mention.

Still not a single word from Nono who he longs, bitterly at this point and time, for some assurance that he still bears a place in his heart as his son. Missing the quiet murmuring he'd often hear in the sitting room where he would sprawl out, chess pieces scattered across the carpet.

Even a short note would do. He never asks for one. Nana would feel he dislikes life in Namimori which is not entirely untrue but enough to keep all those pent up wants to himself. Instead escaping in the form of asking for pocket money to buy an occasional snack on his way picking up a few things from the shop.

Last he heard from Italy was word of Gokudera. They still aren’t fond friends. But neither are they at each other's throats. Instead they chose to eat lunch by the treeline, stand close together during music which he was just awful at holding the note and on occasion greet each other in the hall between classes.

Hayato had been the one to inform him of all recent things he knows. Having ties to the mafia after all by his indecisive father. In light of everything, Nono's sons are dead.

The biological ones it seems.

He wonders if he will be next. Wishes it the tiniest bit but never enough. Hardly enough.

Metal chains stir him for what seems like an eternity or roughly three minutes with their ominous creaking. He knows it's a park. Nana had explained that once when asked about the play tunnel, that in his mind is a large air duct leading seemingly nowhere.

But he has... never been to one.

Curiosity outweighs consequence, reality of how Reborn might actually kill him for arriving late on their first official training day. In favor of a newly abandoned swing in this strangely empty park.

Wood chips crunch beneath his boots and he finds it mildly entertaining. Walking a bit heavier each step just to hear them scatter and snap. Only the swing, he doesn't know how to use it. He's seen other children play on it but seeing is far different than doing.

Pushing himself up he kicks up his legs wildly and yet barely moving. Less than preferred anyway. Leaves scatter down the slide yet it frustrates him that it won't continue to move as he wished it to. Stubbornly refusing to give up on what could be a thrillingly good time he pushes off violently from the ground only succeeding in making it rock dangerously out of control.

Not at all the straight, swift movement he's seen those kids make.

In the height of his frustration, mid-pause between another burst of energy and screaming bloody murder he feels someone’s hands grab his seat. Gently pushing, they move him forward. Straight forward.

She's younger. Not by much. Tiny and tired. Dark circles evident, half hidden by hair that needs desperate attention. Scarf half tucked in with the rest falling down to drag past her legs.

"Thanks, I guess…" Quiet as he can speak. She seems as if she's ready to bolt. Mouth slightly agape at the fact he'd actually spoken as if she hadn’t been mentally prepared to take that step.

Her mouth closes with the help of both hands and she nods.

"You know how to do this right? How to uh.. Sch-s-wi-" His words blend together messily. At least now the tiniest grin appeared on her face replacing it’s previous gloomy downturn. Tsuna isn't really sure what she wants. But some help would be appreciated.

He's figured things on his own but this swing was nearly impossible by his own functioning abilities. The chains rattle and she sits herself down in the swing next to him with her tiny legs sticking out to show him the movements. If anything they're too exact. Perfectly pointing when they moved forwards then backwards. But nevertheless he does his best to mimic her. Eventually it moves It keeps moving. Higher and higher.

Soaring.

His moment of glory is spoiled. Jerking backwards in a screeching halt as his boots grind mulched ground, a line of tracks their wake. Tsuna nearly lost one in the process.

"Mama will be especially worried if you aren't home in time to study. As you  _ promised _ ."

Reborn, the demon, satan's spawn in leather shoes. He glowers back at the one who ruined his chance to fly  _ and  _ his finger. "No."

Tsuna rattles the swing violently. "No."

There is no little girl with purple hair on the swing beside him anymore. No bookbag nor any evidence she was even there. Tsuna is suddenly very alone.

"What are you staring at?" Reborn is so smug. He hates that. "I told Mama I would pick you up today because of your wandering tendencies and you know how she worries. If you don't hurry 'll be the only one of us two who gets to eat dinner tonight."

Tsuna has absolutely no intention of missing his second meal due to Reborn eating everything but the peas and makes this known through an icy glare. "You already do that."

"I wouldn't have to if you headed home faster, dumb Tsuna. Get your bag- or else." Reborn is towering over him like a malevolent demon. What could a ten year old like him do anyhow? Reluctantly he shoulders his bag.

Stumbling behind quickly to keep up with long strides. Her visit was well forgotten. 

It’s only a mundane afternoon in Namimori.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shoves both fists into my mouth to keep from yelling at y'all what is in store
> 
> feedback is super appreciated because i can't guarentee i am doing a good job


	9. The Birth of A Milestone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just want to advance to Xanxus but i can't leap that far that would be terrible
> 
> Revised 11/28/17
> 
> (you are reading the OLD pre-rewrite chapter. Editing in effect beginning 4/26/18)

There was sand in the very bottoms of his shoes that evening when he returned home so close to dinner that, Nana was less than pleased.

His guilt plain as day.

Only a half mumbled "sorry," can suffice because he really doesn't want to explain he'd returned to the park. And discovered the curiosities of not only the seesaw but the sandbox. He's never touched sand. Only in a few books or a rare movie or when his classmates would talk about their summer vacations at the ocean was he aware it existed altogether. But it wasn't pleasant.

Lately it had been more for the fact of his quiet friend. Acquaintance.

She hardly speaks. But he rather likes it that way only unnerved by the softness of her voice the rare times she chooses to. It was never like that at home. Excluding Nono. He wishes for a letter more than ever, checking the mailbox every day. Nana lets him.

_ Does he no longer love me? _

He wants to ask that but he knows Nana will only cry. She's odd by all means but he wishes she won't be sad or lonely. He does love her as his mom.

It’s selfish of himself to pursue the love of another while there is already someone more than willing to provide it. A pretty rock is tucked into her palm one day because it seemed like something she'd think of as nice.

Nana says Halloween is close but Tsuna dislikes scary things.

He even more so dislikes training days which are every other day. Reborn talks of flames and dancing colors that have the power to protect his future famiglia. It’s heavy, the weight of those words are no trifle. He isn't quite sure what it means. Rings and curses. Reborn tells him that Gokudera is his Storm. He doesn't know what that's supposed to mean either. Running around Namimori.

"What if I end up disliking them? Or they don't want to-"

"Have faith."

Always, always, always.

Reborn tells him this like a broken record and Tsuna almost wonders if those are the only words of reassurance he knows. Why does it have to be specifically him after all? "How would you know if I have those uh- flame things anyway? I'm not blood related."

They're sitting on the living room floor. More a case of Reborn sitting and Tsuna nearly face down in the carpet for all his oddities.

"Speak up, I can't hear you with your face full." Though it is obvious he heard well enough.

Tsuna props himself on his elbows. Bleary eyed from an exhausting day. "I don't carry anyone's blood so why does the inheritance fall on me?" Stupid hat continues flipping through channel after channel. The only sound that fills the room is their soft breaths mingled with constant clicking of the remote and rapidly changing channels.

"Technically, flame type isn't entirely based on blood. Though it's usually the case. Anyhow no one really knows if you're not really blood related. You just happen to be the only lucky qualifying heir, dumb Tsuna, which is why you need to get your ass in gear."

Sneaky hands snatch his lone fedora right off it's resting place on the coffee table. Much to his surprise it's far too big and Reborn doesn't seem to care, only slightly eyeing how Tsuna handles his trademark item.

Tsuna can't seem to keep the brim from falling halfway down his face. "Still not fair. It's not like I chose to be born with whatever the fuck. I'm ten anyway so-"

He scoots exactly six times back for fear of being smacked.

"Life isn't fair, don't be lame."

"You're lame."

Tsuna bolts for the stairs. A barrage of pillows and rubber bullets following him all the way to the top.

 

* * *

 

He left the house with a picture book tucked into his bag.

Nana noticed but said nothing. The smile on her face told too much.

Tsuna neither dislikes nor likes school. It’s more of a mundane task he knows he must endure every day. Regardless that never stops fights provoked by others who would rather pick at him to test a rumor or two. Recently, they never happened as often and he can't but wonder why.

For all it's worth he wants to believe it was due to the teacher present. But even he has a limit to suspending disbelief. Regardless the peace is welcome.

Gokudera has not yet returned over the course of several weeks. To say he is worried is not entirely untrue but never expressed. A picture book and some leftover grapes from his snack are enough to coax Nagi into speaking a bit more today. She has a pretty name he tells her, it really fits.

"I like… birds…" Nagi tells him this slowly, decisively. So they spend the afternoon bird watching with a pair of plastic binoculars he happened to find in a cereal box some months ago and writing down whatever they saw on the back of old test papers that never made it out into the open. Nagi was in charge of the drawings seeing how the only thing he could draw was a semi cloud looking cloud.

And she laughed at the silly looking finch he'd drawn just for her.

"Do you miss them?"

He looks up from coloring in a swallow that Nagi had so nicely drawn. "Miss who?"

She looks embarrassed suddenly. Eyes falling on her scuffed up shoes. "Uh.. I-I'm sorry I just have the feeling… you're always, um- missing someone terribly so- if that's not true…"

In all honestly Tsuna can hardly hear as her voice fades quieter and quieter. "Oh, I miss my home sometimes. I guess," He invites her to come color as well. Holding out a crayon from the half crushed box.

"Home?" She’s careful not to bump into his coloring spot. To prevent their crayons from jarring across the page.

"Yeah, I'm from Italy. Not by birth but... yeah."

She nods. Handing him a second crayon. "Yeah." Nagi is the quiet companion he prayed for.

Their project relapses into a comfortable silence, freezing gloved hands work fast with an occasional pause for a grape. Something bad might happen, he doesn't really know.

Tiny hands are attempting to construct a crumbling world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ADVANCE THE PLOT DO THE THING ADVANCE THE PLOT DO THE THING


End file.
